It happened when I was walking out of work the other day, a gentle breeze blowing, my heels clicking against the parking deck. I thought, I’m so glad my childhood self can’t see me now.

No, it’s not what you think. It’s not because I was ashamed or frustrated with myself.

It was because I was happy. Because I have a job I enjoy and I’m pursuing a big dream with the support of a fantastic husband.

When I was a kid, I had one major wish for myself: to grow up. To be an adult. So I could make my own decisions and create a life for myself. While other kids would use their hypothetical wishes to get treasure or take a trip to the moon, I wanted adulthood.

So sometimes, when I’ve had a great day, I think about what my childhood self would think. I think about how elated she would’ve been if she’d been able to glimpse the me I am now. Elated and incredibly impatient. It would’ve made it impossible to be content.

If I could go back in time, I’d reassure her. I’d tell her that childhood will eventually end. I’d show her that I’ve become the kind of person she’d always hoped and that I’m still fighting for bigger dreams. I’d tell her one day she’ll have the love of a man who makes her feel like the most important person in the world, that she will be loved unconditionally and wholeheartedly.

I don’t think that would’ve made the waiting any easier. But it gives me such a sense of appreciation when I look at my life now. Of course there are things I would change if I could. It’s not perfect, by any standard, but I can honestly say my life now is good. And that is no small thing.